


Fragments

by Queen__Queer



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Angst, Billy lives AU, Character Analysis, Heavy Angst, Introspection, Major Character Injury, New Caprica, Post-Episode: s02e16 Sacrifice, Torture, i think the torture scenes turned out pretty well, post-New Caprica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28963518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen__Queer/pseuds/Queen__Queer
Summary: The human race is left to pick up the pieces after their escape from New Caprica and Billy is left to try and recover both physically and mentally.A collection of moments during and after the events of New Caprica if Billy hadn't died in season 2. Aka, I develop my writing style while theorizing about what-ifs.
Relationships: Anastasia "Dee" Dualla & Billy Keikeya, Billy Keikeya & Felix Gaeta, Billy Keikeya & Laura Roslin, Billy Keikeya & Tory Foster
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Fragments

**Author's Note:**

> How did this end up being the longest thing I've ever written

The days were monotonous. They had to be to get through them all. The question of whether that was a coping mechanism or because everyone had simply seen worse was still up for debate. In all likelihood it was probably a mix of both for some and one or the other for the rest, though even then it was only a guess, Billy was never a phycology major after all. Something he had noticed, however, was that most people around him seemed to be dealing with the events of the past year better than he was. True, everyone he saw was either in the military or the _President_ , but that didn’t change how out of place he felt.

He still had his job, which he was thankful for. It made moving past the happenings on New Caprica easier. A job to do and a presidential pardon- _Is it a pardon if you were working from the inside?_ -made life slightly less of a mess. If he ignored the last year of his life things somehow seemed almost better. A secondary aide was brought on a few weeks before they all set up shop on New Caprica and she had stuck around which meant less work for him. To say that he and the aide, Tory, were friends would be a stretch. She was kind, yes, but the line was strictly drawn at coworkers. 

“The President needs those survivor lists by the Quorum meeting today,” Tory broke the silence in the office. The two sat across from each other on Colonial One, each sorting through long lists of names and lines of numbers.

“Meeting’s at 3, right?” Billy asked, not looking up from the lists of the living. _You can’t count the dead anymore._

“It is.” The two didn’t look at each other while talking, continuing work like normal.

Billy sighed, “We should talk about planning a funeral service.”

“They’ll want it done by colony.”

“By colony,” he scoffed, “What’s the point? We’re not _colonies_ anymore. We’re barely a people.”

“It makes them comfortable. Something to hold onto, I suppose,” she shrugged, “It’s easy.”

“If it’s separated at all it should be by ship. Honestly, the _Quorum_ should be by ship. There’s no point in representing dead planets and nonexistent cities.”

Tory hummed, “They’d hate that idea.”

He slumped back in defeat, “I know.” Billy looked at the papers in his hand, “Are the lists done?”

“Nearly.” She made a few marks on a paper and set it aside on the stack of other lists.

He nodded. He took a breath and stood, “I’ll be right back, leave the list on my desk when you're done and I’ll take them over to Galactica,” and with that, he left the office.

He locked the door to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He gripped the sink and stared at his reflection. The yellowed bruises and scratches along his cheek would fade with time but the long, cleanly and purposely cut scar above his eyebrow, bags under his eyes, and bandage around his left hand would remain staples of his appearance. He got lucky, he knew, and he was thankful that he made it out alive- _And with both your eyes._ -but gods he couldn’t help but hate his reflection.

He checked his watch, the two minutes designated to self-pity were over and back to work he had to go. He quickly changed the bandages on his hand and went back to the office. He grabbed the stacks of papers from his desk. In his hands sat every last living human. 

Business as usual.

The shuttle over to Galactica was quiet aside from the sound of the Raptor itself and then a guard asking Billy to check the lists for a name. He did. They weren’t there. No one talked for the rest of the ride.

President Roslin thanked him when given the lists. There wasn’t much to be thankful for, but it was what one said.

“Are there any plans for a service? People will want a time to mourn,” Billy asked as he stood next to her.

“Oh, yes, yes I suppose that would be best. Could we read off the names?”

“We don’t have all the names of the dead yet, we’re not even sure this,” he gestured to the lists of the living in Roslin’s hands, “is all of those left. Whatever it is would need to be vague, a minute of silence and some prayers, maybe.”

“We could do a minute for the people lost from each colony?”

“I don’t think there’s much need for that, ma’am. Too long and you let people dwell and,” he paused, “I don’t think there’s much point in using the colonies to divide anything. We’ve survived much more than just losing our homes, Madame President. And, continuing to use the colonies to separate us is only going to force people apart when there’s,” he lowered his voice almost instinctively, “already been some problems because of that.”

“Right, yes that’s a good point.” She moved the folder of lists to under her arm, “I always thought you’d make a good politician, Billy. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’m sure you’d make do, Madame President. Is that all you needed from me?”

“It is, sorry again for making you come all the way over here just for this. When you get back could you and Tory start working on plans for that service?”

Billy nodded, “Of course. I’ll see you back on Colonial One for the Quorum meeting.”

She smiled, “See you then, Billy.”

Billy left Roslin to her own devices, starting to walk- _Limp- your frakking leg couldn’t heal properly if it wanted to._ -back to the dock and to the Raptor waiting to take him back to Colonial One when he paused suddenly before even making it out of the CIC.

“Are you alright, Billy?” Roslin asked, noticing his suddenly rigid stance.

He turned to her, “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry I just,” he glanced around him, “thought I heard something. I should be going.” He left, for real this time, though not without feeling Roslin’s mildly concerned expression following him. The same two pilots were at the Raptor, the one who asked for a name to be checked had red and puffy eyes. Once again, the ride to Colonial One was as silent as it could be. Raptors were surprisingly loud to be in, though he doubted most people noticed.

Tory glanced up from her work when Billy walked in. He all but collapsed into his chair, letting out a sigh and running a hand through his hair. Tory raised an eyebrow, “Did something happen?”

“No, I’m just tired, is all.”

“Is your leg giving you trouble again?”

“It always is. What makes you ask?”

She shrugged, “Your limp seems worse today than usual.”

“Is it noticeable?”

“To anyone who doesn’t work with you and see you 24/7? No.”

“Good.” He sat up, “She wants us to plan the funeral service.”

Tory took the que and got back to work, “What is she thinking?”

“Basically what we were saying, something small, some prayers and a minute of silence.”

“I’ll get in contact with a priest. Ask them to prepare something.”

“And I’ll figure out a good time for it. I was thinking midday, maybe in the afternoon.”

“After 3 and most people will be off work or switching shifts.” The words ‘people who still have jobs’ went unspoken.

“Bleak way to start or end a work day. It’ll work, though. I’ll get in contact with the Admiral and ship captains.” There wasn’t much need to explain each thing they both did but it helped to fill the silence. Billy couldn’t handle the silence anymore.

\---

The service was nice, all things considered. The prayers were nice, he supposed. A bit awkward to sit through but it was better than the minute of silence. _You should’ve known this would happen._ He knew how it would go but he had a bit of a problem overestimating himself.

Perhaps uncaring of his own wellbeing was a better descriptor. 

Which is how he ended up where he was. Curled up in a corner of the meeting room of Colonial One. The funeral service was, of course, taking place on the ship of the President with the priest and some members of the press coming on board to witness the sad attempt to respect the dead. He stood around for the prayer and made it through the minute of silence but once the minute was over and chatter didn’t return as people began to file out, he excused himself to the other room. Billy had to admit, being _alone_ in a silent room wasn’t much better, but it gave him a level of control.

He was very lightly hitting the back of his head against the wall. It made a sound, at least. He was doing his best not to shake too badly. With his bad leg out in front of him and the rest of him balled up in the corner, he found himself starting to hum. A simple tune he couldn’t place. The important part was that it was a sound. Any sound was better than the silence. Silence let the echoes of screams creep back into his mind.

There was a knock. His head shot up to face his visitor. He started to stand, “I’m sorry, Madame President.”

President Roslin leaned against the table, cocking her head to the side slightly with a soft, concerned look on her face, “Sorry for what?”

“For leaving so suddenly,” with the help of the wall behind him, he stood, “I should’ve stayed until it was completely over.”

“Don’t be. I’m surprised I made it through myself. It’s difficult to stop yourself from crying during things like this.”

“It’s not that- though yes it is...difficult- but I don’t deal with silence that well anymore.”

A look of recognition crossed Roslin’s face. She knew he was imprisoned by the cylons, someone being accused of leaking information to the resistance was information that, ironically enough, got leaked to the resistance. The two never really talked about what happened. It didn’t seem like they needed to. He made it out mostly unscathved. With a bad leg, a not very telling bandage around his non-dominant hand, and one, albeit long and deep, scar being the only obvious visible proof of his time as a prisoner. There were other marks that were more well hidden and many more that weren’t visible at all but Billy wasn’t exactly jumping at any opportunity to mention them. But that was all to say, Roslin could understand what Billy was referring to.

“Right. Would you want to talk?”

He shrugged and put a hand on the table, holding up his weight, “There’s not much to say. When it’s completely silent I can-” he shuddered, “I’ll be fine. Really.” He would be, he had to be. No one had the time to not be fine.

She gave a small smile, “You can talk to me anytime, you do know that, right?”

“I do,” he pushed away from the table, nearly stumbling as his weight shifted onto his bad leg, “And I will, just not right now.” He did truthfully plan to tell her at some point.

“Of course.” A brief moment passed, “Have you gone to see Cottle yet?”

“Not yet, I haven’t gotten the chance. The one time I did try he was a bit, overbooked.”

Roslin gave a nod, “Do yourself a favor and go and see him. Take the rest of the day off. And, take care, Billy.”

“You too, Madame President.”

\---

_“What did you give them?”_

_“He couldn’t tell you if he wanted to.”_

_It was a Six and a One talking. He was in a chair, not strictly trapped in place but unable to move nonetheless._

_“And why’s that, Cavil?”_

_“I don’t think he’s physically capable of talking right now. Call it shock if you’d like.”_

_“Oh please, he’s just being difficult.”_

_He was thrown to the ground and a wheeze escaped his lungs. He instinctively curled in on himself only to have his shoulder forced to the side to make him face upwards at the Six looming over him. She was a brunette, different from the one who condemned him to this fate. Her heel dug into his shoulder and he opened his mouth in a silent gasp of pain. She pushed the heel farther into his shoulder and he swore he could feel the skin break under the force of stiletto._

_“What did you tell them?” The Six growled again._

_He’d refuse to talk, he had to refuse. Giving in would get several people killed, but refusing meant more of this. His face ached and the dried blood caked around his nose was becoming irritating. The front of his shirt was grabbed and yanked him up. The Six bent down to meet his eyes. She was searching his face for an answer. She didn’t find one. In response, he was pulled from the ground and shoved back into the chair he was first thrown from. Every part of him ached from the sudden movement after days of being still in his small square cell. The One stood back, his arms crossed and face showing one of annoyance at the Six and slight delight at Billy’s suffering._

_“Last chance,” the Six said, “What information did you give the resistance?”_

_It was funny, he barely gave anything. In fact, he_ didn’t _directly give the resistance anything. He only handed information over to someone else. Not that he’d ever tell them that. So he didn’t speak. The Six reached around the side of the chair-_ Of course they’d have torture equipment in the torture room. _-and retrieved a knife._

_“I warned you,” she said, placing the cold blade just above his left eyebrow. Just close enough to the eye to cause optimal anxiety. She pushed the knife into the skin slightly, prompting a hiss from Billy. Only a small amount of blood was drawn at first. The knife was dragged along his face, using his eyebrow as a stencil for the cut. It was clean and smooth, a part of his brain remarked that she would have made a great surgeon._

_“Now?”_

_He didn’t respond and he didn’t meet her eyes. She dug the blade back deeper into the cut in one quick movement. This time he let out a scream and she revelled in it. The knife continued back through the cut, deepening it._

_“I’ll make it nice and neat for you. It'll be obvious that it was on purpose, so every time you look in the mirror you’ll have to remember me. Maybe it’ll help you atone for your sins.” She taunted him and made another pass through the cut now oozing blood._

_The One, still standing next to the door, cleared his throat, attracting the Six’s attention. He pointed at his watch. The Six rolled her eyes and stood, finally removing the knife from Billy’s face. She looked at the knife for a moment and looked back at Billy. She whipped the blood off the knife onto the front of his shirt. She was about to put the knife back where she had first gotten it but she stopped and contemplated. The next thing he knew the knife was through his left hand. This time the scream echoed in the small concrete room._

_Before he knew it, the knife was gone and he was being pulled to his feet by guards. The guards were other people, other_ humans. _He was pulled and shoved and thrown into his cell, blood seeping into his eye and out of his hand. He stumbled and fell as the door creaked and slammed close. His breaths were ragged at first and soon, once the shock had finally worn off, sobs wracked his body. He held his bleeding hand to his chest as if that would suddenly make it all better. Were he to open his eyes the left side of his vision would be red. The cold concrete ground began to grow warm from his own blood in some small, twisted sense of relief. The warmth didn’t last, however._

\---

Roslin looked up from her desk when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and her face lit up upon seeing her aide, “Billy!” she exclaimed, “I’m glad to see you actually got to see the Doctor.”

He stood just outside the doorway, weight now partially supported by a cane in one hand, “Yeah, well uh, Cottle was pretty insistent once he saw me there.”

“I’m happy to hear that. And it means that they’ve got less people in a critical condition.” Billy nodded in response and the two sat there for a second before Roslin continued, “Go ahead and have a seat, I have a meeting in a few minutes.”

He nodded again and sat at his desk. He got to work. Time passed as normal, one of the ship’s captains came on board and he and the President left to discuss matters, leaving the two aides to continue their work. Soon after Roslin left, Tory spoke up, not looking up from her work, “You actually listened to her?”

He shrugged, “I had been meaning to see Doc Cottle. Yesterday was the final push.”

“So was there nothing to do for your leg other than give you a cane?”

Billy grimaced and quoted the doctor, “‘It was never given the chance to heal right when it was first broken, there’s nothing to do about it now but make it a bit easier on you.’ So yeah, it’s frakked. But this,” he patted the top of the cane which he had leaned against the desk, “at least is supposed to make it hurt less.”

She hummed in response, “Anything else?”

“He took a look at my hand, my muscles are only slightly messed up. Got some antibiotics since, of course, it got infected. Oh, and then, of course,” he dug a bottle from his coat pocket, “antidepressants. I didn’t think I’d define everything going on as depression but they’re supposed to help. I won’t argue with the professional.” He shoved the pill bottle back into the pocket of his blazer.

“Don’t other medications usually mess with antidepressants?”

“He mentioned something like that, said to stop taking them and go to him immediately if I notice anything.”

She nodded. The two continued working. The shuffle of papers and scratching of pens filling the wouldbe silent office.

“Thank you, by the way,” Billy spoke up once more, “For talking with me. I know we wouldn’t exactly be considered friends and I’m probably really just distracting you but…”

“You’re welcome, Billy.” She looked up at him, “It is nice being able to talk to you. You don’t get that very much anymore.” He smiled back at her. “Plus, it’d be pretty bad if you had a panic attack in the middle of the day.”

He let out a small laugh, “Though really, Tory, thank you.”

“It’s not a problem.”

\---

“So you punched Gaius Baltar, the former president, your _ex-boss_ the second he was back on Galactica?” Dee asked, seeking clarification on the situation.

“Yup.”

“Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Neither did I.”

The two sat at Joe’s Bar, mostly alone aside from a few stray people. They hadn’t gotten a chance to talk about anything in over a year. No one had gotten the chance to catch anyone up on their lives recently. Dee gestured to the bartender and got them each a shot. Billy picked up the glass and looked at it, he muttered, “I never used to drink.” He shrugged and held up the shot glass, “To, uh-”

“To that black eye you gave Gaius frakking Baltar.” She also held up her glass.

He laughed and the two downed the shots. Dee continued speaking, “I wish I was there to see it. Maybe I’ll get to see the President rat you out for it.” The air around them was calmer than they both anticipated. 

“I’m surprised she let me just walk away after that. I’m surprised the _guards_ let me walk away from that.”

She snorted, “I’m sure they all wanted to do the same. And from what I hear it’s not like he didn’t give you a good reason.”

“Gods, don’t remind me. He looked at me and with that smug face he always has and said he was _glad_ to see me _alive_ and _well_. As if he wasn’t the one who threw me under the bus after _one_ slip up that no one would’ve known about if he hadn’t raised the alarm. But no, he was too scared that that Six would somehow read his mind or some shit and get _him_ in trouble if he didn’t say anything. The man _knew_ I’d likely be killed and all he had to say after sentencing me to _death_ was that he was _glad to see me_.”

“Why did you go work for him?”

“I figured he wouldn’t be doing any actual work and that it’d get shoved off onto Zarek and us. And it’s not like Zarek actually cared about politics so as long as he was in power most decisions would fall to me and Felix who would just need to present the plans and get it okay-ed.”

“You’d work from the inside.”

“I’d work from the inside,” he repeated. They each took another shot. Dee opened her mouth to speak for a moment before hesitating and closing it again. Billy looked over at her with a raised eyebrow and asked, “What?”

“How,” she hesitated again before committing, “How did you get caught?”

The small smile on his face dropped.

“Oh, gods, I shouldn’t have asked that. You don’t have to answer.”

“No, no it’s fine. It’s probably a good thing to say it to someone.” He took a breath, “It was only a few weeks after the Cylons had first taken over. Felix had just set up the dead drop and I was dealing with getting any important information. I had found some lists that seemed important, it was pretty much nothing. I didn’t have access to much of anything. But I had gotten my hands on this one thing and had to make copies only for Baltar to, for once in his life, come into work _early_ and immediately figure out I’m leaking information. So he calls in the Six who calls in a One who gets the centurians to drag me out.” He paused, “I was taken peacefully at least.”

\---

_The shirt of his collar choked him as he was dragged along by the centurion like a kitten being picked up by the scruff of its neck. He kicked up his feet in a weak attempt to stand against the force of the centurion. At the same time he was grabbing at his shirt collar to try to pull it away from his neck and to keep breathing. The One, the Six (Caprica Six, he had learned she was called, though he refused to call her the name of a long dead home), and Baltar followed behind him. The One called out something that Billy couldn’t hear over the pounding in his ears. The centurion stopped and he was forced to his feet. He nearly fell from standing so suddenly._

_“I don’t get why you don’t want to kill him now and get it over with,” the One spoke, “A public execution would send a good message.”_

_“No!” The Six and Baltar exclaimed at the same time. A crowd had gathered._

_“Well fine, we could try and make this easy then,” the One stalked forward towards Billy. “If you tell us who’s in the resistance and what they know, you’ll get off the hook.”_

_“No I won’t,”Billy’s breaths were that of a runner after a marathon, “You’ll get what you can out of me,” his voice grew louder as he talked, “_ torture _the rest out of me, and_ kill _me when you’re done! For as much as you all talk about wanting to live harmoniously with us you know it means frak all! This was a genocide from the start! And_ you _!” He pointed at Baltar. He could hear the centurion behind him ready its gun, “You act all high and mighty as if you aren’t folding under the smallest amount of pressure! As if you can just wash your hands clean of the blood spilled! I hear you pray that the weight of the dead may be lifted from your soul, that you may be granted entry to the Elysium Fields when you finally step too far out of line and either side decides that that one move was enough and has you killed! You sit in the center never making a single choice and wonder why the only person by your side is a frakking toaster who can’t agree with the rest of them!”_

_“Are you done?” The One asked. Only now Billy noticed the cold metal resting against the back of his head, “I don’t actually have much reason to listen to them and not kill you. And you’re right, you’re not making it out of here alive, so you can make it easy on yourself and tell us, is there another leak, who’s in the resistance, and what did you give them?”_

_“If I tell you I wasn’t working alone would you waste your time looking?”Gods, he was hoping that would be enough to stop them from searching for another leek. There was only one other person who could get government information. The resistance couldn’t lose both insiders. Billy couldn’t stand himself if he got Felix caught._

_The One snarled and looked up at the centurion, “Break his nose.”_

_In a moment Billy was on the ground bleeding. The One crouched down to his level, “Anything else you’d like to say in front of these fine people?” No response, “Fine.” The One stood up, “Take him away.”_

_Billy was pulled away once more by the centurion. The crowd watched on._

\---

“Really?” Dee asked.

“Most people were still asleep. I just disappeared one day. I think I drew enough attention away from Felix that he didn’t have much trouble getting information out. I like to think I did some good.”

“Oh, Billy, of course you did.”

“I mean, I must’ve. We got out at the end of the day. The majority of-” he stopped himself, “I don’t actually know who was on the death order that made it out. It all happened so fast and- and life hasn’t slowed down since.” The bartender once more refilled their shots, “Gods, I went through the names of survivors and I didn’t even think to check. I could now, we’ve got copies of them all.” His tone indicated he wasn’t so sure about checking for the names. There was a lull in the conversation.

“Billy, about what happened between us-” Dee started.

“Don’t. There’s no point dwelling on that.” He looked at her, “It’s fine, really.” She smiled and gave a nod. The lull commenced once more. They each took a shot. Dee then asked, hesitantly, “What happened to you, after you were arrested?” The word ‘arrested’ didn’t seem to fit well in the sentence.

“I was tortured,” Billy responded bluntly, “They did everything they could to find out who was in the resistance, what I gave them, anything. When they didn’t get it they just took out their anger. I knew enough to be kept around but wasn’t important enough to keep away from the-” _The brink of death._ He bit his tongue, “To stop me from being a cylon punching bag.”

Dee cringed at the mental image that was created. “So that’s how you,” she was about to say something specific and instead opted for a vague gesture at Billy in general.

“Yup.”

They sat. Some time passed and Billy could have sworn he heard a radio switch on. His head jerked towards the sound only for the faint music to stop. He checked his watch, “Frak. I need to go.”

Dee checked the time as well and stood, “I should go too. It was nice catching up, Billy.”

“It was,” he agreed, “I’ve- I’ve missed you.” They smiled, then, “Uh, right, I should go.”

“Right.”

“See you later.”

“See ya, Billy.”

He walked past Dee, mentally preparing to face the President and whatever may come in response to him punching Baltar. As he walked the halls of Galactica he couldn’t help but overhear small whispers passed around. It wasn’t something he was completely unused to, school was kind to no one, though this time the tone of the murmurs were different. It seemed Dee had been right, everyone wanted to be the one to punch Gaius Baltar.

It didn’t take a genius to guess where the President would be waiting and as he rounded the corner to the Admiral's quarters his suspicions were confirmed by the two guards standing outside. He gave them a nod and one opened the hatch, breaking from his stoic expression to smirk at his fellow guard. He stepped in and the door closed behind him.

The Admiral, the Colonel, and the President looked to him as he entered. The Admiral sat at his desk while the President sat across the room and the Colonel stood against the wall near Adama’s desk. The aide spoke, “I-I’m sorry for what I did, I wasn’t thinking, it won’t happen again-”

“For the love of the gods, Billy, it’s fine,” Roslin cut him off, “We have other things to discuss, sit down.”

Billy did as told, taking a seat a few feet away from his boss. He had clearly come in in the middle of a conversation, which Roslin continued, “He almost certainly has either given the cylons information or overheard something assuming he wasn’t directly told anything important. We need to find out what he knows and what he told them.”

“He won’t just talk,” Colonel Tigh butted in, “He’s only ever out to save his own skin and all he has to work with to do that is keep whatever crap he knows from us.”

Adama spoke next, “If we keep him from sleeping he might be more willing to talk.”

Billy zoned out for most of the conversation.

\---

_He didn’t know how long he had been there. There were no windows and it was difficult to tell when the guards switched shifts. He couldn’t even trust his own internal clock. He couldn’t sleep. Whenever he was about to collapse from exhaustion the cylons would pull him from the cell and try again to get information from him. Once that was over and he was back in the cold and cramped cell he would then be unable to clear his head enough to fall asleep. There would always be some kind of sound pulling him back when he’d start to nod off._

_It was always the screams._

_It was always far off and faint. You would think that it was finally silent only to notice the screams of the damned coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. It penetrated every moment of the day and echoed between the ears and behind the eyes of everyone who heard it even once it had ended._

_Billy could no longer tell the difference between the actual screams and the memories that plagued him. It wouldn’t matter in a moment, he noted, as the door was pushed open by a faceless creature. He was pulled to his feet and taken down the same path of corridors he had been taken many times before. A door was opened and he was shoved into the room. His blood still stained the floor._

_The faceless creature left and was replaced by a monster with the same face as many others._

_The Six, Lilith, as he had learned she wished to be called and he would refuse to call her, crept forward. At one point in time she would have been accompanied by a guard or at least another cylon but he wouldn’t fight back they had learned. She seemed to be in a sour mood more so than normal. This wouldn’t be an integration session._

_“I’ll cut to the chase,” she began, “Who are the insurgents?”_

_“I don’t know,” it was barely above a whisper._

_“Who were you giving information to?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“Is anyone else leaking information?”_

_“No.”_

_Only one was a lie._

_“You’re still sticking by that?” The Six sighed and rolled up her sleeves, “Alright then.”_

_She punched Billy, sending him sprawling to the floor. He’d never stop being shocked at the strength of the Sixes. She coupled the punch with a few kicks to the ribs and when she finally stepped back, Billy sat up just enough to cough up blood. The Six crouched down and asked in a low voice, “Sometimes I wonder if this is how you humans get your kicks. With the amount of literature you have about ‘the tragedy of human existence’ I’d expect that you’d look forward to situations like this. Wouldn’t it,”-_ Gods why are the Sixes so creepy? _-“build character?”_

_He spit out more blood. He tried to sit up further. He glanced at the Six and, seeing her expectant expression, asked, “Do you want me to respond?”_

_“I would so love to get a closer perspective of that human psyche of yours.”_

_“You’re disgusting. You’re disgusting and- and you have a very, fundamental misunderstanding of humanity. And that’s why you failed here. That-” he let out another cough, “That is what you were going for, right? Redemption for your sins?”_

_“You’re dodging the question.”_

_“What question? Y-You asked if pain builds character and th-that’s rhetorical, clearly. You don’t care about what I have to say. You’re trying to make up for what you’ve done and find a reason for why it was all okay in the end because your God said so but while seeking redemption you aren’t looking for forgiveness.”_

_“Ah yes, the human ideal of forgive and forget.”_

_“That’s a thing for kids, no one above the age of twelve actually expects anyone to forgive and forget. In fact, that's what-”he had to cough up another small amount of blood, “that’s what you’re doing now. You’re shocked that we don’t want to be governed by the people who voted for our genocide and that we won’t just move on once you’ve established your dictatorship-” The Six had heard enough, he had struck a nerve, she stood and took a step back. She glared at him and scolded, “Don’t speak to me about redemption when you still worship your false idols.”_

_Billy couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Who ever said I_ worship _the gods?” He received a kick to the face, thanking the gods he never truly believed in that she wasn’t wearing heels that day. He fell back and his head slammed against the ground. His vision went black for just a second, at least he thought it was a second, he could never be sure anymore. There was the sound of the door opening, some shuffling about, and it closing again. He groaned and opened his eyes-_ When had he shut them? _-and above him stood the Six and one of the many faceless guards._

 _“Get up,” she demanded. He couldn’t, no, he_ wouldn’t. _The guard looked to the Six who only nodded. He was pulled to his feet. Her face was serious and annoyed, “Who is the resistance getting their information from?”_

 _“No one. You’re just not as good at keeping secrets as you’d like to think.” Billy Keikeya had never thought that he would be too_ snarky _for his own good._

_“Get him in the chair and prop his leg up.”_

__What? __

_“What?”_

_The faceless thing holding him in place followed blindly and for the first time since he had first been put in Detention, Billy had the energy to fight back. It was useless, of course, he hadn’t eaten in days and had already been beaten to a pulp, but he tried nonetheless. This time he did have to be strapped down to the chair._

_“Blindfold him,” the Six commanded, “I don’t want him mentally preparing.”_

__What the frak did that mean? __

_The guard followed orders and the world went black again. His left leg was forced up and onto a block that he would have presumed had been brought in when the guard was if he weren’t panicking with his mind anywhere but focused on the logistics of his torture at that moment. The Six could be heard moving about, grabbing something presumably. She walked over and he struggled against the bindings._

_“That question I asked wasn’t rhetorical.” Her voice was dripping with cruelty and excitement. They had stopped interrogating him long ago._

\---

_He was forced to walk back on a broken leg, not even given the dignity of being dragged back. ___

__\---_ _

He stood again in the Admiral’s quarters, the group from yesterday joined now by Dr. Cottle and Felix Gaeta. Roslin spoke first, seemingly to catch Billy up on the events that transpired that night more than to act as a conversation starter, “Dr. Baltar tried to kill himself last night.”

“Tried?” Billy prompted.

“He used the bedsheets to make a noose. Thank the gods it didn’t work, we need to know what he might’ve told the cylons.”

Billy gave a noncommittal nod at the statement, muttering to himself, “And it’d be too painless.”

A few strange looks were thrown his way and Colonel Tigh let out a laugh. His eyes widened and he muttered again, “I didn’t mean to say that outloud.”

They overall ignored his remarks. Cottle began to talk, responding to Roslin’s first comment, “I warned about the dangers of sleep deprivation. Psychosis can make a man do strange things and Baltar’s little hunger strike is not helping either.”

“Bastard wants to die that bad I say let ‘em,” Tigh grumbled. He was not the only person in the room with that mindset.

“Bottom line, we need Baltar to talk,” Roslin said, “If the other cylons saw the same symbols that we saw they could be on their way to Earth, they could be setting up an ambush by now. I’m betting that after tonight he could be more willing. Doc,” she looked to the doctor, “wait an hour or two, I want him cogent, I also uh, don’t want him to starve.”

“What do you expect me to do about it?” Cottle asked.

“I expect you to make sure he eats.”

Understanding and disgruntled, Cottle stood, and with the conversation coming to a close Colonel Tigh spoke, “I’ll see about putting security cameras in that cell.” He too stood and began to move towards the exit. Billy watched as Felix began to leave as well, visibly uncomfortable with the predicament he had found himself in and Billy was about to follow when the President stopped Felix to ask, “Um, Mr. Gaeta,” he paused and turned to her, “What exactly were you doing going to see Dr. Baltar in the middle of the night?”

“Um,” Felix glanced at the Admiral and then to Billy with the face of a man caught red handed, “I couldn’t sleep and, uh, I guess I thought he might be willing to talk to me.”

Whether the other two saw through the blatant lie or not was unclear from their faces. Adama said, “We understand just, leave his interrogation to us.”

“Of course.” After a beat, he left. Billy looked to the President who gave a nod before he could ask anything. He followed after Felix, struggling minorly to catch up.

“Billy,” Felix said, “How are you?”

“Alive. How have you been holding up?”

“It’s been...difficult. There’s always too much to do and everyone’s either dealing with their own shit or wishing we’d just get over it.”

Billy hummed, “Meanwhile, I’ve got too much time on my hands and the President breathing down my neck to get me to talk.”

“Of course she is. I doubt she’ll ever tell you, but she tried to get me to pull some strings to get you out of the Detention Center early. I did manage to get your case looked at again but…”

“She did that?”

“Yeah, she stopped me on my way to the dead drop a few times. I thought she might kill me the first time.” A beat. “Every time.”

Billy chuckled. The conversation died and the two walked side by side. Then, finally, the question that had been hanging in the air was asked, “You didn’t go to question Baltar, did you?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Felix grumbled, “I couldn’t sleep and I doubt I’ll be able to until he’s gone.”

Every president had at least one person who wanted them assassinated.

“I should be going,” Felix continued, “It was nice getting to talk to you again.”

He smiled, “It was. I guess I’ll, uh, see you later then?”

“Yeah, see ya.”

\---

The plan had sounded insane, not because it was cruel but because it hinged on the idea that Baltar could ever feel remorse for any of his actions. In practice, it seemed to be pure lunacy. Billy stood next to Colonel Tigh and watched as the President berated Baltar, throwing pictures of families dead by the cylons’ hands. By _Baltar’s_ hands. And there was the ex-President, trying to wipe his hands clean of the evil done under his administration. She threw pictures of those dead from the Detention Centers at him, though she needn’t bring pictures when all they’d need to do is look behind Roslin at the two dead men walking.

Baltar spoke, “I am not responsible-”

Both him and Tigh bristled. He wasn’t paying close attention to the conversation and the next thing he knew, Roslin was yelling for marines to grab Baltar and take him to the airlock.

_Good riddance._

Baltar was screaming and trying to fight back against the guards as he was pulled from the cell. _At least he gets to know who’s taking him to his death_. He demanded a _fair trial_. As if he had the right to demand justice.

Billy had never seen the President like this, even when she got serious, when the weight of the human race laid more heavily on her shoulders, she’d always appeared calm and had been cold. This was anything but calm and cold. She was yelling at Baltar, screaming for him to look upon the faces of the dead and to point out one loss he’s taken. And as he began to beg for his life Roslin sounded like she would personally add his face to the walls. The marines were ordered to let him point out a face of someone he knew but to train the guns on him at all times. He grabbed a single picture, his lab assistant apparently, and yelled that he wouldn’t kill that man.

If the fact that the picture was on the top didn’t make it obvious enough that it was added recently, Billy recognized the name of the man as one of the first people on New Caprica to be put in Detention for staying out _past curfew_ , an order Baltar himself signed off on without much, if any, persuasion. Yet, he held his tongue, if for no other reason than to not gain Roslin’s attention as she’s taking out her wrath on Baltar.

The marines grabbed him again, picking him up completely when he refused to walk.

_Slightly more humane than walking on a freshly broken leg._

He kept yelling about justice, about trials, about _anything_ in an attempt to paint himself even more as a victim. He was shouting moot points to uncaring guards and three people forced through his government’s sense of justice.

Sadly, it seemed that they weren’t going to throw Baltar out the airlock.

\---

They were going to drug him. They were going to use experimental drugs to torture information out of Dr. Gaius Baltar. Billy wished it felt as ridiculous as it sounded.

He stood by as Roslin was asked if they were doing this for their own pleasure. She smirked. While Roslin may have reasons other than revenge to do this, as Billy stood back and watched Dr. Cottle inject the drug, he couldn’t think of anything other than how gratifying it was to see Baltar slip away from reality.

_Gods, what kind of person have you become?_

\---

It didn’t work. Well, it worked to a certain extent, but it didn’t work _enough_. Even drugged and hallucinating Baltar wouldn’t help someone other than himself if his life depended on it. With extreme measures not working, they- _You’re not in the conversation. You’re watching from the sidelines. Even after the cylons are gone you still don’t have a say in the political conversations you’re privy to._ -decided to go with the simpler, more obvious and direct approach. Felix was going to question Baltar, try and frame it as an old friend- _They were never friends. They were friendly at times but really, they were never friends._ -asking for help on some navigation work he’d been doing. Get as much out of him by lowering his guard. It seemed easy enough.

_It won’t work._

As Roslin and Adama, with a few quick comments from Tigh thrown in, explained exactly what information Felix had to get out of Baltar he kept glancing over at Billy. The two would make eye contact, at least one of the two would appear worried for either themself or the other, and then they’d look away. Though neither would ever admit it, they both knew something would go wrong.

Billy hadn’t been paying much attention to the words being spoken until Colonel Tigh looked to him and asked the others, “Why don’t we send both of them in?”

“ _No,_ ” Felix said before Billy himself could. The three looked shocked and Billy guessed he did too. Felix cleared his throat, “Uh, no, Sir, I don’t think that will be necessary. Besides, it would only draw more of Dr. Baltar’s attention and make it obvious that we’re there to question him. I have reason to talk to him about everything we need him questioned on, but Mr. Keikeya doesn’t have anything that could lead to a line of questioning.” He had almost finished speaking but quickly continued with “Plus, I don’t think he’d want to.”

Billy nodded in agreement and added, “I do not think it’s the best idea to me in a room alone with him.”

Tigh shrugged and grumbled, “Eh, I was just asking.”

Billy gave Felix a look of gratitude. Roslin gave Billy a look of amusement. She may be willing to hold back her questions about the Detention Center, but she definitely wasn’t going to hold back asking him about the domestic aspects of New Caprica.

\---

 _One of the guards had pity on him and let Doc Cottle come and see him. Billy had overheard the guard-_ Is it a good or bad thing that you can’t recognise its voice? _-convincing the Six who seemed to have taken charge of his torture that leaving him in this state would kill him, “And we wouldn’t want that.”_

We. Not you, we. The creature disconnected itself from the rest of humanity. 

_Cottle was given a specific amount of time and specific things he was allowed to do. He could stop Billy from bleeding out and he could make it so he could walk without breaking his leg again but wasn’t allowed to make sure it would heal properly. He was not allowed to tend to the other wounds. He was not allowed to look at or ask about them either. This was the closest Billy had come to human connection in months, weeks? He hadn’t been able to keep track of time. Cottle worked quickly and silently while the guard stood and watched._

_His leg was poorly set in place with a mumble of, “It’ll heal,” from Cottle. He stood and turned to the guard, telling it something about Billy needing better nutrients. The guard said it would tell Lilith-_ It referred to her by name. _-though it was clear nothing of the sort would be done._

_After Cottle was escorted out, the Six stepped into the room to warn him that interrogation would not stop for this. Of course it wouldn’t. She was having too much fun with it._

\---

Billy, Roslin, Tigh, Adama, and Cottle sat and watched the interrogation. It seemed to be going well so far which shocked Billy. Baltar was talking. His ego and need to constantly seem like the smartest person in the room drove Baltar to help someone _other than himself_. Unthinkable. Baltar moved his chair and took the pen from Felix, mumbling about navigation and cylon technology. The tension in the air was thick.

Felix was doing a good job of manipulating- _It is manipulation, isn’t it._ -information out of him. Putting himself down to give Baltar a step up. It caused a small pang in Billy’s heart to hear Felix voice his own inconfidence to that _monster_ in the cell. It was so clearly more than just inconfidence in the work itself, the perfect way to play into Baltar’s pride. His voice was shaking while offering the possibility of freedom in exchange for the fixes to the charts.

Then slowly, it all began to unravel. Baltar looked up, directly at the camera and into the eyes of the onlookers in another room. The five of them held their collective breaths until Tigh said, “So much for that little strategy.”

Baltar gave a wave accompanied with a teasing, “Hello.” He continued, sighing, “I should’ve known you’d betray me.”

Tigh’s running commentary persisted, “That son of a bitch.”

The mocking continued, going so far as to claim that he allowed Felix to continue to leak information. Billy stiffened and Felix scoffed, “That’s a lie.”

“No, it’s not a lie. You think I’m blind. See, I literally had a gun pointed to my head, but nobody forced you to play both sides. So I’m asking you, Mr. Gaeta, who is the real traitor in this room?”

It was, by far, one of the stupidest things Gaius Baltar had ever said. Anger was boiling up within everyone.

“If you knew the whole time why did you let me continue to feed information but not _him_?”

“It was an unfortunate situation but I had no choice- it was the _middle of the day_ , if I hadn’t found him-”

“It was _5:30 in the morning_. You were only awake because of a migraine and you went out of your way to get the cylon’s attention. You knew how few people got out alive and for a crime like that. I am not the traitor.”

“No, because there are- there are far worse things than being a traitor, aren’t there, Felix? If your friends only knew the truth,” he looked up at the camera. Roslin prepared to stand. “But don’t worry-” he grabbed the back of Felix’s head, forcing their faces next to each other. They had no choice but to watch him struggle in Baltar’s grasp in something that felt uncomfortably akin to a lovers’ quarrel.

Adama finally prompted them to interfere, saying, “We gotta get in there,” he led the charge into the brig. Billy stood back as the others left, hesitating long enough to watch Felix shove Baltar away from him, grab the pen from the table, and stab it into Baltar’s neck. Billy started running.

When he reached the brig they were trying to negotiate with Felix for Baltar’s release. He had Baltar in a headlock and the pen held up as a threat, “-I can’t let him live, sir, not after what he’s done.”

Roslin began to speak but Billy cut her off, “Felix, _please_. He’s not worth it.”

“After everything he did- after _everything_ that happened to you?” He was pleading and he was shaking. This was never supposed to be his job.

“Not like this. He _isn’t_ worth this-”

Adama knocked him out and Felix crumbled to the floor. Cottle checked on Baltar while Billy crouched down next to Felix. He carefully picked up his head, he didn’t seem too hurt. Good.

Baltar would live.

_Frak._

\---

Not only had Baltar gotten a trial but he had been found not guilty. Not _only_ had he been found not guilty but people had _applauded_. It sickened Billy to no end.

Billy had nothing to do other than pace the ship. Everyone else had a job to do and while he technically did have something he should be doing, he had also been expressly instructed to cool off and clear his head. Roslin could always read him well.

He rounded the corner and nearly bumped into Baltar who was carrying a box and jumped when they nearly collided. Baltar seemed to wrongfully relax upon recognizing him.

“Dr. Baltar,” Billy addressed him grimly, a small level of threat behind his words.

“Mr. Keikeya,” Baltar’s voice shook as much as he trembled. No words passed between them. Baltar opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the ship shaking and the lights going out. Billy muttered, “Shit,” and shoved passed Baltar, making his way to the CIC. People began to move about, each heading in different directions. He picked up speed only to stop suddenly. Stood in the middle of the hallway, Billy glanced around. He stepped to the wall and put his ear up to it.

_Music?_

He swore he had heard it before. It seemed to be leading somewhere deeper into the ship. He started to follow it. He stayed close to the wall, listening for the faint whispers of a tune. He kept walking and a headache began to seep in, quickly building up and becoming a pounding and piercing pain.

Billy muttered to himself, “I can’t get no relief.”

He trudged on in the opposite direction to the crew rushing past. The music grew louder and he continued forward. He soon lost the feeling that he was moving his legs on his own and instead began to feel something pulling him onwards. The headache became the music itself, engulfing his mind as his surroundings slipped away./p>

He reached a door. His arms and hands moved on their own to open it. He hadn’t a reason to not open the door but something told him that even if he wished to keep the door shut, turn around and walk away, that he wouldn’t be able to. The hatch door opened and he stepped inside to one of Galactica’s gyms. Already in the room, Chief Tyrol and Sam Anders stood across from each other. They looked to him as he entered and a black space in his head was filled as he met their eyes. A question answered and many more raised.

“This can’t be happening,” Billy spoke. He looked between the others, “Oh gods, please tell me this isn’t happening.” It was a prayer as much as it was a rhetorical statement.

“So this is it,” Tyrol began, staring at the floor in resignation, “After all this time. A switch goes off just...like that.”

Another door opened and in stepped Colonel Tigh, “Woah…”

“Oh no way,” Anders muttered, “I don’t believe this, I’m not buying this. This is uh- this is a _trick_ , c’mon we’re not-”

“What- oh gods what is it?” Billy asked no one in particular and he began to hum what remained of the music that drew him there. Slowly, one by one, the others began to add on, none of them quite humming the correct tune but all getting recognisably close. Tigh put an end to it quickly by shouting, “Alright that’s enough gods dammit!” Silence fell. “Deadbolt that _frakking_ door!” Tigh shouted again as he went to do the same to the second door. Anders did as told. Tigh growled, “Forty years in this service...forty years. Two wars, combat, locked in that dungeon on New Caprica...Ellen...My gods, what about Ellen?”

“No no no no,” Anders uttered, “Not after all this. Not after the resistance, the occupation, after watching my friends die one after another for frakking _this?_ ” He took a step back, “You all, just stay the frak away from me.” He pointed at the group at large.

“Sam,” Tyrol stopped him, “It’s true...We’re cylons. And we have been from the start.”

Billy’s heart rate sped up, “No, no this- I had a family. I-I had a mother and father- I had _parents_ , I had a brother, I had sisters, what- what were they?” Action stations were called, “What are we gonna do?”

Tigh immediately answered, “The ship is under attack, we do our jobs. Report to your stations.”

“Report to stations?” Tyrol asked, astonished.

He answered again, this time with a statement, “My name is Saul Tigh, I am an officer in the colonial fleet. Whatever else I am, whatever else it means that’s the man I want to be. And if I die today, that’s the man I’ll be.” He buttoned up his uniform and walked out. Billy was the first to move, following behind and heading for the CIC.

Tigh took his place across from Adama and Billy took his spot next to President Roslin and Tory. Adama looked to Tigh and said, “Good to see you, Colonel.”

“Glad to be here, Admiral,” he responded, “You can count on me.”

“I’ve never doubted it.”

Billy leaned over to Roslin and said, “I’m here if you need me, Madame President.” She looked at him in gratitude and placed a hand on his arm. Tory glanced at him when he spoke, acknowledging his presence but adding nothing to the brief exchange. A grave look passed between Billy and Tigh.

\---

The D’Anna spoke of love and protection. She spoke of loving and protecting the four of the final five cylons in the fleet and on the ship while also forcing their hand. They had an option, go with her onto the cylon baseship and give up the little humanity they had left, or stay and allow President Roslin and many members of the Galactica crew to remain as hostages. A double bind. Damned if they don’t, damned if they do. Whether they knew it or not, the entire fleet was watching them. There were no outs, there was no way to win, they could condemn themselves to ostracization assuming they weren’t killed, hand over their freedom and their friends in exchange for the lives of others and respect of the enemy. Or, they could do nothing, sit and watch the D’Anna flounder for a way to convince them or perhaps watch her sell them out and force them to leave the Galactica, that or she’d have the hostages killed and turn against the fleet.

They could keep their lives or join the cylons. There was no way to have both. There wasn’t enough time to think, no decisions could be made.

Tory stepped forward, always the professional, and told Lee Adama, “Laura Roslin needs her medication and I need to make sure that she’s alright. I’m gonna go with them.” D’Anna looked back at them and appeared disappointed at which of the two aides decided to step forward. A look of hesitation crossed Billy’s face and he glanced to Tigh who read his expression and said, “No,” it wasn’t directed at Tory, “We can’t give them any more hostages.”

Lee muttered, “Colonel’s right.”

Tory continued, “I served under Roslin for two years, my place is by her side.”

“I’ll do it,” Billy cut in, his mouth seeming to move without his permission. He looked to Tory, “You stay here in case anything happens, I’ll take Roslin her medication.” She nodded at him. He was going to miss her. They had grown closer and despite everything that had happened the two still had a strong though never stated understanding of the other.

Tigh opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Adama, “One more hostage isn’t going to change the equation.”

Billy gave him a nod to Adama and a look towards Tigh and Tory. He gave Tory a small smile. For a moment he thought about the amount of work she’d get saddled with after it was all over. He regrettably and hesitantly accepted D’Anna’s help as he stepped up onto the Raptor.

This time he at least had the honor to walk to his death.

\---

He was paraded through the baseship and taken to their control hub. The centurions watched him as they passed by. Once they arrived, D’Anna announced the long awaited arrival of a lost sibling. He should have liked to never meet his family, he had, or at least had the memories of, a good one before all this. A family that cared about him, real or not. He was pushed forward and a group of cylons rushed to meet him. A Leoben looked at him and then at D’Anna, “He’s one of the final five?”

He looked between the faces of the cylons as D’Anna spoke, “I saw him in my vision. Now he’s come home.” His gaze fell onto one of the Sixes, a brunette.

“Lilith,” Billy growled. He stepped forward, more of a lunge really, the bottom of his cane thudding against the ground. The Six took a step back. _She_ was afraid of _him_.

“You remember me?” Lilith asked.

“How could I forget?”

“If I’d have known I wouldn’t of-”

“Of course you wouldn’t have. But I wasn’t important. It didn’t matter what you did to me, to any of us, you didn’t get consequences.” He glanced about the room and sighed. He stepped back. This conversation could wait. He looked to D’Anna, “I came here for a reason, this wasn’t it. Where is she?”

D’Anna looked to a Six, he didn’t know which she was, and the Six looked to him, “Follow me.”

She waited for him to take a step towards her before she started walking. She led him down a hallway identical to all the others and to a room. She motioned him into the room and said, “She’s in here.”

He stepped in and saw Roslin sitting across from a shirtless Baltar wrapped in bandages.

“Madame President,” Billy walked towards her. He gave a quick look to Baltar, “Dr. Baltar.” His voice was shaking.

Roslin stood and whispered in shock, “Billy.”

“Please, sit down. I, uh-” he fumbled as he grabbed a pill bottle from his blazer pocket, “I brought you your medication.”

“Oh my gods,” she took the bottle, “How did you do that?”

“I came on the Raptor with D’Anna...to try and trade myself for your release.”

Realization dawned and was clear on Roslin’s face, though it was Baltar who spoke, “Because you’re one of the five. You’re one of the final five.”

“D’Anna saw him,” the Six said, “In her vision.”

“I knew it,” Baltar bluffed, “Maybe not on a conscious level but subconsciously I always knew there was something.” Maybe it made him feel better. Maybe it made it seem like everything he had caused was just in the end.

“You didn’t even suspect it,” Billy responded to Baltar. He then turned his attention back to Roslin, “Madame President I am...I am so sorry. I should have told you sooner.” His hands were shaking and his eyes stung, “I’ve known ever since Captain Thrace returned, in the nebula. I’ve thought about telling you but I- I couldn’t bring myself to. But…” he took a breath, “I’m going to get you all out of here and back to Galactica. If it’s the last thing I do.”

Before Roslin could respond he gave a small smile in an attempt to reassure her and started to leave. Roslin stood and took a few steps towards him, “Billy,” he turned to her, “It’s fine, really it’s alright. Just...if you’re one of the renowned final five, they’ll listen to you, right?” She looked to the Six who gave a nod, “Right, so you just need to convince D’Anna that...that you’re all she needs and to back down and let the hostages go.”

He nodded. He’d be okay. He could do that much, keep calm and negotiate hostage release.

He returned to the main control room to D’Anna speaking with Galactica, threatening to throw a hostage out the airlock every fifteen minutes until the other three joined him. He screamed at her, “You can’t do that!”

D’Anna turned to him, “Why not? We need all four of you.”

“They are cooperating! The only reason the others aren’t here is because _they’re_ choosing not to come! You may not understand this but we still have lives. We have people we care about- We have _free will_ gods dammit! You can’t make it an option to not come and then change to deal halfway through!”

“I can and I will. We need all of you here.”

“You have me! I came willingly and immediately, I am _all_ you’re going to get, we don’t need more bloodshed! I-” he suddenly became lightheaded, he stumbled and barely avoided falling even with the assistance of a Six and Leoben rushing to his side. The music had returned louder than before. He breathed heavily. The Leoben and Six held his weight. Slowly, he got his feet beneath him again. He muttered, “I’m fine. I’m fine,” and winced when he put a bit too much weight on his left leg. The Leoben grabbed his cane and handed it to him, Billy hadn’t realized he had dropped it. With the two cylons’ help, he stood on his own.

D’Anna, after making sure Billy was alright, turned away. The conversation was clearly not going to continue. It was probably for the best, even the beacon in their heads was calling them together.

Some time passed and nothing was said. Then Lee made contact. Tigh was sitting in the airlock. His life for the hostages.

_So much for my attempt._

The communication ended and D’Anna was giving orders Billy couldn’t catch. This was going to be it. Tigh would be killed, the other two given up, the hostages executed, and he’d be stuck on the baseship. If he went back he’d be recognized for a cylon by the fleet. If he stayed he’d be recognizing himself as a cylon. He listed the names of the people he’d miss. Only four came to mind.

_Tory._

She’d have to do both her job and his. She’d also have to start working under Lee. He’d be a good president. There’d be a lot to deal with after half of Galactica’s crew gets executed. Gods he’d really screw her over on that front. She’d miss him the same amount she’d miss anyone she worked with. She’d probably take a day to reflect and recover from the shock. He wondered what it’d be like afterwards. If word got out would she be accused of collusion? Would the government as a whole get accused of having been corrupted by cylons?

All four of them had some sort of connection to or directly had a leadership role vital to at least some humans’ survival. His and Tigh’s connection were obvious but even Tyrol and Anders had influence. They each were positioned in such a way that, were the correct moves taken, could lead easily to the downfall of humanity.

It made him shudder.

Tory wouldn’t have to think about that, though. She’d just have to think about how she worked alongside a sleeper agent for a year.

_Dee._

So much had changed between them. It felt like a lifetime ago that they were held at gunpoint by terrorists demanding Sharon’s corpse. A lifetime ago since his first real, at all serious relationship ended first with a whimper and then a bang. He had forgotten what getting shot had felt like. He had forgotten what anything from that night felt like, at first he tried to scrub it from his memory then it was forced from his mind. It was too simple a pain to be worth keeping. She’d be alright, they weren’t as close as they were years ago, and she had people around her and a job to distract her. He’d like to think she was as strong as she let on. She had more of a spine than he’d ever had.

He wondered what it’d be like realizing she was in love with a cylon. She’d probably wonder how much of his life he told her was a lie. He was still wondering the same.

_Felix._

Oh gods, _Felix_. He was barely holding on as is. Even with them no longer working together directly they still found time to catch up with one another. But, with Billy gone...He feared for his friend. It would be daft to not see how close Felix was to the brink of destruction.

Felix would find out in such an impersonal way too. Maybe he’d be there when Tigh gave them up or maybe it would just be overheard as they talk about the last of the four still being alive and knowing where Earth is. Someone would- _Oh gods, Dee would probably be the one to ask._ -ask who the fourth is and the news would break. Adama probably wouldn’t even stop what he’s doing to say it. Felix would have to keep working and ignore the fact he had worked alongside, befriended, and _mourned_ a cylon.

Would it matter though? How much would his being a cylon change their past? Billy hadn’t started acting differently after he had found out, he’d made sure to not become a different person. He just hoped that would stick when he was gone.

_Roslin._

Roslin.

He’d have to watch her die. He’d have to watch her get _executed_. There weren’t words to describe how much she had done for him over the past years. It was far from perfect, the rigged election coming to mind of course, but nothing ever was. That was something the cylons never seemed to truly grasp, the inherent humanity in imperfection. For as much philosophy as some of the cylons seemed to like to talk they so rarely questioned their own existence outside of being both humanity’s and God’s children though never simultaneously. Something that President Roslin had always understood was how flawed human nature was and how vital that was to growth. The cylons seemed to view flaws as glitches or errors to be corrected. Or so Billy assumed, he never had the chance to study cylon philosophers since the multiple ends of multiple worlds. He supposed he’d be able to now, considering-

There was screaming.

_Oh gods, it’s started already hasn’t it?_

__

Billy forced his mind back to the present and looked to D’Anna. She was speaking with Lee- with _President Adama_. There was still some time.

__

“Galen Tyral and Samuel Anders have just joined Saul Tigh here,” the President spoke. The cylons grumbled. The other three were waiting in the airlock.

__

_The bastard is actually going to go through with it._

__

It shouldn’t have been a pleasant thought, but it meant actual negotiations could still possibly happen. He shouldn’t have doubted it so soon. D’Anna looked to Billy as if for confirmation. She did seem to hold some respect for him after all.

__

He cleared his throat, “I know him, he’s true to his word. You hurt a single hostage and he will kill those three.”

__

Not enough respect, “Target all nuclear weapons at the civilian fleet.”

__

“D’Anna,” he looked over to the voice. It was Baltar. _Great._ “Coersian won’t work with Lee Adama, he’s too much like his father.” Oh perfect, he was _agreeing_ with Baltar, “He doesn’t give a damn about those three, not now. You push him.”

__

“And the entire human race will die with them,” D’Anna seemed shocked, but sure. She was willing to go through on her threats.

__

“Do you really think that God brought you back from the darkness for this, D’Anna?” Even better, he was getting religious, “Do you think that maybe he brought you back for a different purpose? To end this peacefully.”

__

“They will never forgive us for what we did to the Twelve Colonies.”

__

“Did you think they would?” Billy asked, “Is genocide not one of your sins? You can’t redeem yourself from that.”

__

“Exactly,” Baltar added, “Brute force did not work for you, on New Caprica, on the algae planet, so why is it going to work for you now?”

__

An Eight told D’Anna that they had weapons locks on the fleet. The three of them stood, Baltar and Billy staring down D’Anna. Suddenly, Apollo came on the coms. He called for all weapons to hold, Tigh was being removed from the airlock. Starbuck had found something in her Viper. Anders and Tyrol had told her to look for it. They were ordered, “D’Anna bring yourself, Mr. Keikeya, and anyone else you think will be needed to confirm the signal.” They had found it.

__

A way to Earth.

__

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just saying, if Billy didn't die he'd probably have been one of the final five. Fight me on this.
> 
> Comments are always welcome <3


End file.
